The storie of Asneth : an unknown Middle English translation of a lost Latin version / [ed. Henry Noble MacCracken].

PROLOGUE.

As I on hilly halkes logged me late, Beside ny of a ladi sone was I war; La bele me desired in englysh to translate

The latyn of that lady, Asneth putifar. And I answered, "ma bele, langage I lakke, [ 5] To parfourme youre plesir, for yt ys ful straunge That broken tuskes shold wel harde nuttis crakke, And kerue out the kernelis, to glade with yowre graunge; For lame and vnlusty, now age hath me left, Mi spiritis are spended, I lakke sapience, [ 10]

Dulled I am with dotage, my reson ys me reft, Prived and departed from al eloquence, So my seson ys passed with language to iape. Hit ys not fetis for to see a cowe in a cage Ye 1 desire to make a fool of my lordis ape. [ 15]

He plesed neuer lady wel þat lakked corage, For as þe oule ys vn able to blase þe sunne bemys, So ys þe moselyng molle to iaile þe rede rose, And as able ys þe asse to danielis dremys,

As þe cukkou with crochetis ony countour to close." [ 20] And when daunger deynusly here desire refused, Labele ful benignely sayde to me þan, "That seruant ys not to blame, but fully excused, That meketh hym to his maystresse, & doth as he can." Concluded þus with gentilnesse, I toke on me þe cure, [ 25]

Asneth storie to translate after my cunyng, Fro latyn into englysh as god me sendeth oeure. Gyde þis werke, gracious lord, and graunte it good endyng, Utterali the latyn in englysh to transpose, Hit is nuyus, but þe sentence I schal sue in trace, [ 30]

And yf ye fynde fautes, grave hem with yowr glose, I pray ȝow thus, my maystresse, of yowre good grace.

Notes

• 1

  MS. The.